Behind The Lines
by CoriMariee
Summary: In the end, when words fail, hearts intertwined will know and grieve the loss of a dream without them.


**A/N The following scenario is not what I want to see happen if Olivia is promoted, I would love for she and Elliot to find the happiness together that they so richly deserve, but when I heard the news that Olivia would no longer be Elliot's partner starting midway through season 13, this is the scene that came to mind and has refused to leave me be. Perhaps by putting it on paper, I can somehow cosmically ensure that it doesn't happen in cannon? Thank you to Munchkin79, Tstabler and Jezykfic for the read throughs and suggestions and again to Jezykfic for a super fast and detailed beta.  
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He watches her pack, occasionally looking at his DD5s as though to remind himself that he should be filling them out, that the job continues, that he isn't leaving.

And yet, a part of him is.

He sees her scan her desk for the last time, making sure she's gotten every last half- chewed pen and PostIt note into the cardboard box that she'll use to take her stuff upstairs to her new office.

Away from him.

He's proud of her for getting the promotion, damn proud, prouder than he'd ever been of Kathy for doing anything, besides giving him his children and that's not nearly the same. His children were a part of him, this is something Olivia is doing by and for herself and yet he's still ridiculously proud.

And devastated, but he'll never let her see that, not this time.

He's promised himself that when she leaves, he won't punch a locker, throw furniture or get himself suspended for being too rough on a perp or coworker. He'll make her as proud as she's making him, even if she's not around to see it.

"El."

He startles at the sound of his nickname in her voice, realizing belatedly she's caught him staring. He tries to muster embarrassment, but it's quickly quashed by the overpowering mix of pride and pain that is continuing to sit like a weight in his chest.

Finally, he musters up the courage to respond. "Liv."

She'd known he was watching her, had been aware of his eyes on her since she'd come in that morning to wrap up a few cases and clean out her desk. And she'd been especially aware of how his gaze hadn't left her form, save a few half-hearted glances at paperwork, since she'd begun to pack up the last of her things. She looks at him now, taking in his paler than normal complexion, the grimace on his face that he probably thinks passes for a smile and the way his whole body is a mass of tension and pain.

Her heart breaks.

She knows she has to do this, that she needs a life for herself and perhaps a chance at motherhood. She also knows that all of those things start with this promotion. And yet, as much as she wants all of that, she'd been nervous about taking the position and even more so about telling him once she'd decided to do so. She hadn't wanted to hurt him.

Surprisingly though, he's been supportive,

He's reassured her countless times that she's doing the right thing by taking the position, and has told her to take the time she'll now have off, due to the regular hours of the mostly behind a desk job, and fulfill the dreams he knows she still has.

She's heard the slight strain in his voice as he's praised her for making the move both when they were alone and when they've discussed it with colleagues, but for the most part he's been incredibly understanding and positive about the whole thing, especially for the man he is. He appears to have accepted her leaving and the fact that he won't be able to see her as much.

And he seems to understand that they won't be partners anymore, something she herself is still having difficulty processing. There's been an ache in the center of her chest recently at the idea that perhaps he doesn't feel as much for her as she does for him and won't notice when she's gone.

Looking at him now though, she knows he hurts. The heartbreak she'd begun to feel moments ago deepens as he continues to look at her as though he hopes she might know some way to make all of this okay. Some way to say goodbye.

She doesn't.

For a split second, she thinks of calling her new boss and telling her thanks, but no thanks for the promotion because there is no way in fucking hell that she is leaving Elliot Stabler, now or ever.

She banishes that thought from her mind quickly though, before it can take root in her heart or show on her face. Then, she straightens her spine and tries to muster a smile for him as she moves to stand beside their desks, "That's the last of it, looks like I didn't have as much as I thought. You'd think after thirteen and a half years I'd have more shit here, but between my locker and my desk, I only managed to fill this one box. Guess we can't all be pack rats like you." She tries to keep her tone light and joking, but her uncertainty causes the playfulness of the last part of the sentence to fall flat.

He senses that she trying and appreciates it, wants to show her that he can try too, even if it's just this one last time. "Yeah and I'm probably going to be a worse one now that you won't be here to tell me to throw stuff out.", he says as he gets out of her chair and stands, facing her, a small space left between them.

He sees a flicker of pain mar her facial features and he realizes that he's said the wrong thing. Immediately he feels like an ass in a way he's never experienced before.

She's surprised at his comment, but she knows he didn't say it to make her feel badly. She understands enough to know they're both just trying to use humor to keep things from affecting them and failing this time because there is no way to make this anything other then what it is.

An ending

She is unwilling to say that to him or even really to herself though, so she presses on, exchanging a try at humor for an attempt at reassurance. "I might not be your partner anymore, but I'll still be around, Cragen is keeping me on staff on a case by case basis as a consultant."

She knows as she says it that even if she is at the station for every case, what they have will have changed, perhaps even ceased to exist. She bites her lip to keep the almost overwhelming emotion she is feeling at bay.

He sees her struggling with her feelings and wants to help, wants to fix this, wants to hold her and take all of her pain away, the same way he's wanted to for all the years they've been partners. But, one final time, he refrains. He knows that if he attempts to share an embrace with her, even as a gesture of goodbye, he won't be able to let go and that would only add to the pain of the moment. She doesn't need that from him and he would never forgive himself if he made things more difficult for her.

So he extends his hand to her, putting on what he hopes is the encouraging expression he's been mentally practicing since the moment she told him she was taking this job.

She sees the hand he's extending toward her, sees the wavering smile he's working to give her, one that doesn't reach his eyes and where the corners are ever so slightly turning downward with the passing seconds. It's all she can do to offer her hand to him in return, clasping his gently but firmly, as though her grip alone can keep her tethered to him in all the ways that matter. In all the ways that will be no more after she walks out those doors.

He notices the way her face crumples slightly and makes a decision. He's always strived to be her hero, though she can take care of herself and has never truly ever needed one. And he wants to protect her one last time, to help her rebuild her defenses in order for her to leave the one-six as proud of her exit into bigger and better things as she was of her entrance into it.

Tightening his grip on her hand, he makes sure to lock eyes with her as he says with a confident tone that it's taking everything he has to muster, "It's been a pleasure working with you Olivia." As he finishes his sentence, he prays that his eyes have said what his voice cannot. _'I love you, I'm sorry for what we never were, I wish we could have been something more.'_

She keeps her grip firm as she shakes his hand, keeping her gaze level with his as she says, "You too Elliot," her words and eyes agreeing with his own.

Before he can process what is happening, the fact that they have just said their final words to each other as partners, she pulls him into a crushing embrace, laying her head on his shoulder for the briefest of moments. He feels the barest hint of moisture seep into the fabric of his shirt and the realization that she is crying causes a few tears to scar his own cheeks with evidence of pain.

He continues to hold her during their dual emotional break, finding letting her go from his arms as hard a concept to ever conceive of as he thought it would be. Using all the strength and love he possesses, he finally does it though, he sets her free.

Then she's gone.

And for the first time in over thirteen years, he is alone with what could have been, what never was and what, now, will never be.


End file.
